Travelling keeps me sane. It is only on this trip that I realised how much my brain craves being in some sort of engagement, and travelling is a way to keep it fully engaged.
But I am tired. There is just so much to see, so much to do, and so much fear of missing out. I am not sure when I’ll be able to travel again, or be back in japan, so I feel like I can’t waste a single moment here. Maybe it was a mistake to try to do four major cities in three weeks – we spent two weeks in seoul and that seemed more manageable. We’re old, I guess.
My brain is happy. I can feel it. That is a lot to admit for a chronically depressed person. I just like experiencing more of the world, not more of the same.
The past few months have made me feel like I can either choose to be physically healthy or psychologically healthy. At home I keep a strictish routine, exercise daily, eat a healthier diet, and rest a lot. While travelling I am constantly fatigued, my diet is dodgy, I walk a lot but my aerobic fitness suffers. The work that it takes to be a fit and healthy person doesn’t seem to co-exist in a world that requires me to be spontaneous, flexible and always on-the-go.
In a covid-free world I wouldn’t feel like I have to do so much, because there is always a next time. Now I feel like I have put my health at risk by flying on a plane to be here, so I have to do as much as possible. If I get infected again on this trip I am not sure if I have it in me to travel again, and may just resign to a perpetually depressed and compressed life.
I wonder if I can find some middle ground somewhere. It could be an acceptance of what is possible within my means versus giving in to my fear of missing out. It may mean I just have to accept experiencing less in favour of a less fervent journey. This seems to be a lesson that I have to learn over and over again.